Chicken Soup for the Time Traveler's Soul
by sirsparklepants
Summary: ::PERMANENT WiP::   A broken ankle, strange creatures trying to kill him, and pursued by strange men in makeup? Hojo just wants to go home!
1. Chapter 1

**Chicken Soup for the Time-Traveler's Soul  
Pixie**  
**Summary**: A broken ankle, strange creatures trying to kill him, and pursued by strange men in makeup? Hojo just wants to go home!  
**Notes**: Holy – I thought I was done with fandom, especially IY fandom. No, actually, I'm not. ::kicks muses:: So, anyway, THIS IS NOT – I repeat, NOT – a Hojo-bashing fic. This looks to be, in fact, a Hojo-centric epic, since I seem to be incapable of something short, sweet, and to the point. ::kicks muses once more:: Set in the Shichinintai arc, around ep. 108-109, because Jakotsu is my sekrit gay lover. (Um, no, not really. I'm a girl. And Bankotsu would kill me.) Expect sporadic updates full of apologies and excuses, and lots and lots of filler drabbles. Will follow plot up to a certain point (not sure how far yet…)

* * *

Hojo Akitoki was worried about Higurashi Kagome. Since their family names were so close in the Western alphabet, they shared a homeroom class, and Higurashi had been missing for several weeks. The strangest thing was, no one seemed to notice, passively accepting the Higurashi family's excuses of illness. Hojo himself had believed these before, but surely after a length of sickness like this, Higurashi would be in the hospital? And yet there was no sign of such, no friends flocking to the medical institution after school, no flowers bought in bulk to cheer the invalid, no gifts meticulously handmade. No one had even stopped by her house to see how she was doing, shooed away by her grandfather's claims of high contagion.

Then why wasn't the old man as sick as Higurashi herself, Hojo wondered in a rare flash of insight. If even the constitution of an elderly man could keep the germs at bay, then surely so could that of a healthy junior high student who took supplements each day!

Having made up his mind, he was thus rather shocked to find himself convinced and halfway down the shrine steps before he realized quite what had happened. Well, not shocked, particularly, he thought ruefully. Contrary to popular belief, Hojo was quite aware of his own naivety – just unable to do anything about it.

Determinedly, he turned round, positive that this time, if he kept the thought in his head strongly enough. That notion, however, was firmly put out of his head by the strange way the wellhouse was glowing.

He was sure he would have noticed this change before, Hojo thought. Instead of the soothing blue it normally shone, the aura was instead threaded through with strands of sickly black-purple. So this must be a fairly recent development. Otherwise, Higurashi's grandfather would have surely taken care of it, shrinekeeper that he was.

Well, the man was getting on in years. Hojo supposed he could do him an anonymous favor and get rid of whatever was causing the impurity. He just hoped it didn't burn his hands up like the last time he had done something like this…

Sighing, Hojo paced towards the wellhouse. The closer he got, the more his stomach lurched, and he thought that maybe this was why the elder Higurashi hadn't done anything about it yet. Still, he had resolved to help out, and help out he would. Perhaps this was what had made Higurashi sick for so long.

Hojo peered down the well, because that was where that sickly-looking taint was coming from, hoping to find a means of getting down there – because it was surprisingly deep – without having to injure himself. And it would be nice if he could get out, too.

Ah, there it was! A rope ladder. Hojo carefully swing himself over the lip, but as soon as he had a firm hold on it, his stomach lurched once more, rather violently, and he fell. The well was not made wide enough for the height of a teenage boy, and in trying to scrabble for the ladder, his ankle crunched sickeningly. That put an end to his efforts to slow his fall, and his head bashed none too gently on the bottom of the hole.

Moments later, a blue light shone, and when it was gone, a dark-haired girl touched down gently on the floor, heading straight for the ladder with the ease of familiarity. There was no sign of the bleeding boy with the auburn hair.

* * *

**Chapter Notes**: There you go! It's short for three reasons: a) I'm impatient, b) I have the attention span of a toddler with a full bladder and c) I HATE EXPOSITION. There, we have our most basic foundation for the plot of a story, and if my brain decides to dream up strange twists that warp what I have planned, I still have this, the unchangeable facts. I may go back and flesh it out later, slip in more little hints of…whatever the hell this will end up being. ::kicks muses who CANNOT SHUT UP:: 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chicken Soup for the Time-Traveler's Soul  
****Pixie  
Summary**: A broken ankle, strange creatures trying to kill him, and pursued by strange men in makeup? Hojo just wants to go home!  
**Disclaimer**: InuYasha and its associated properties are copyright Rumiko Takahashi. I am not she; I am simply a poor journalist.  
**Notes**: I got favorited! And alerted! On the very first day this story got posted! I'm not sure anyone knows just how happy that makes me. Um, if I ever fall too far behind (read: more than a month or so) in updating this story, someone feel free to prod me. It might actually work. Also! This chapter will hopefully ::crosses fingers:: be longer than the last one.

* * *

Pain.

That was the first thing Hojo noticed as he languidly drifted towards consciousness. Part of the reason he was so sluggish to get up was the farther he got from the blackness, the sharper the pain got. But eventually he did have to return to his own body, and so he did.

He sat up, and the world slowly spun around him, what little he could see of it in the dark of the well…house…

Hojo looked up when there looked to be too much light than was logical, only to find that the roof to the building was inexplicably gone. He tried to jump to his feet in an immediate instinct to try to help those possibly injured in the freak hurricane, for what else could it be, but his ankle gave beneath him and he had to sit down.

Being a rather active teenage boy with friends who were also rather active teenage boys, Hojo was not unfamiliar with injuries. It was fairly clear to him that he had a concussion and – he prodded gingerly at his foot, only to find the joint wouldn't move – yep, a broken ankle. He was also sitting at the bottom of an old well, and no one knew where to look for him once they had noticed he was missing. On the bright side, at least that sickening thread to the well's aura was gone.

Sighing, Hojo pondered what to do. He eyed the ladder suspiciously. It did not look like a fairly steady thing, and it had dropped him before, but the situation seemed to call for him to take it into his own hands. Hojo scooted over on his hands and knees, trying not to jostle the injured ankle too much.

Up the ladder was slow going, as he frequently had to stop and take the weight off of the shattered bone, or simply to grit his teeth and gather his resolve to carry on. Eventually, though, he made it to the top and managed to hoist himself over the lip of the well, even if doing so ended up with him face-first in the grass.

Wait. The grass didn't make any sense either. He distinctly remembered packed earth making up the floor of the structure surrounding the well before. Carefully, Hojo turned over on his side. There were too many trees as well, and now that he was thinking about it, it was too quiet. No noise of people talking, no engine motors, or any other sounds typical of cities. And the air – somehow it seemed cleaner, purer than before.

Okay, Hojo surmised, this was not the work of a freak hurricane. He was naïve, but not that naïve. So there must be some other explanation. Well, a concussion was a brain injury, wasn't it? A mild one? Perhaps his brain had been jarred in his skull enough that he was delirious, projecting nicer surroundings on top of the familiar ones of Higurashi shrine. That made sense. Having explained his surroundings away, Hojo was happy. His universe rearranged itself back into proper order.

Now there was another problem to take care of. He doubted he'd make it far on his ankle as it was, but he needed medical attention. He would need someone with a car to drive him to the hospital, or at least to loan him cash for a taxi, because there was no way he was going to be able to bike on that ankle.

Of course! Hojo smiled as this problem, too, seemed to take care of itself. Higurashi shrine! He was still in the surrounding area, even if his brain decided that it liked this place better. And it was pretty, he had to admit. All he had to do was traverse the surrounding area until someone noticed him. He wasn't sure if he would still recognize people in his addled state, after all…

That did, however, leave the issue of how he was going to make it even that far on the fractured limb. Hojo looked at the trees surrounding him dubiously, trying to decide which ones had existed before his tumble down the rabbit hole and were therefore real. He shrugged, deciding the closest one would do, and dragged himself over to it. Using the support of the tree, he dragged himself upward and tried to decide which branch was long and sturdy enough to serve as a makeshift cane while being weak enough to easily snap off.

Well, at least I know not that one, Hojo mused to himself. If it can hold an entire man, there's no way I'd be able to break it loose from the tree.

The man in question, who was undoubtedly a figment of Hojo's demented brain as he wore ancient garments and had a pair of animal ears atop his head, of all things, peered at him quizzically. "I know you," he said slowly. "You're that Hojo kid Kagome is always rambling about."

Hojo brightened. "Higurashi's always rambling about me?"

The man's eyes narrowed, and Hojo smiled. "Well, I guess that answers the question about me recognizing people or not. I'm sorry, whoever you are, but I fell down the well and I hit my head, and I think my ankle's broken. I'm having trouble with sensory input as well, so if you could take me to get medical treatment it would be much appreciated."

"You really did hit your head, didn't you, kid?" the man muttered. "Name's Inuyasha, and I guess I can get you help. Can you walk?"

"With a crutch? Sure," Hojo answered brightly. "Thank you, Inuyasha-san."

"Kagome'd sit me into next week if I didn't help you," Inuyasha muttered. "It's nothing."

Hojo dismissed this as yet another fragment of his psyche, choosing to stare as Inuyasha snapped the branch above the one he'd been sitting on effortlessly instead of pondering on the sorry state of his subconscious.

"Here," Inuyasha offered gruffly, leaping down from his perch and extending the broken piece of wood to the schoolboy.

"Thank you," Hojo said once more, bowing as well as he could while clutching a tree for support. Carefully, he leaned against the trunk while extending an arm to reach for the crutch without unbalancing himself. "It's been a while since I've had to do this," he said by way of apology.

Inuyasha said nothing, simply grunted, and eventually Hojo got his feet under him and balanced properly. "Lead the way, Inuyasha-san!" he said happily.

It was slow going, because while Hojo had done this before, he had been very much younger, there had been two crutches instead of simply one, both of them were professional grade instead of a tree branch, and he had discarded them after three days instead of the recommended week out of frustration. However, Inuyasha stayed with him, giving no sign of impatience other than a sigh now and then. Eventually, they reached a group of huts, and Inuyasha headed towards one without hesitation, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Kaede-baba! Got some idiot for you to treat!"

At his words, an elderly woman came hobbling out to peer at Hojo with her one good eye. Cheerfully, Hojo returned the favor by waving at her with his one free hand.

"He's dressed so strangely," the woman – Kaede – mused.

Beside Hojo, Inuyasha snorted. "Yeah, he's that Hojo kid Kagome's always going on about. Hell if I know how he got through the well."

"I fell in," Hojo said. "When I was trying to see what had tainted its aura."

Both turned to stare at Hojo, and Inuyasha snorted once more, dismissing him. "Don't mind him, he cracked his skull." The schoolboy nodded, and once more the world began to spin.

"Ah," Kaede said. "And he's injured his ankle as well, yes? Well, boy, come on in and we'll fix you up."

* * *

**End Notes**: More exposition…blech. But! It is longer, and hopefully ::crosses fingers:: the next one will be longer still. I churned this chapter out mostly as a thanks to those of you who have favorited and/or alerted my story. However, I would like to know what you think as well as just that you like it… hint hint The next chapter should be out…soon? Whenever my fingers get the itch again.

Also, because I know people will want to know. My policy on fangirl Japanese in stories? Is mostly none, but I will use the honorifics just like I'd use 'senor' in a story in a Spanish fandom. The reason for this is that I do happen to watch Inuyasha in Japanese, subbed in English, as I believe that is truer to the story. Thus, I know how the characters address each other and can use such in my story without fear of being wrong..


	3. Chapter 3

**Chicken Soup for the Time-Traveler's Soul  
Pixie  
Summary**: A broken ankle, strange creatures trying to kill him, and pursued by strange men in makeup? Hojo just wants to go home!  
**Notes**: Look! An actual review::bounces:: Yes, it's true. I am a total review-whore and I am not afraid to say it. Also, it is amazing the rate at which I'm turning chapters out. This whole 'have a vague idea of where to go and then stop at any point that feels comfortable along the way' system is perfectly suited for me. (Yes, weeks between chapters is like the Indy 500 for me. I kid you not.)

* * *

Kaede had wrapped Hojo's ankle and gotten Inuyasha to smooth out his makeshift cane for him. Then she had given him a cursory once-over, and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay awake all night. Hojo, knowing this to be the common way to treat a concussion from the various medical dramas he watched, didn't fight her, and for this she seemed surprised. She also told him that she wouldn't be able to keep him awake, as she was elderly and needed her sleep. Hojo reassured her that as a slightly absent-minded junior high student, he was used to pulling all-nighters. Kaede looked doubtful, and told him that Sango or Miroku – whoever they were – could easily stay up with him, but he had waved off the help. 

So here he was, sitting with his left leg carefully stretched out to avoid jostling the broken bone too much, aware that it was crucial that he stayed awake but catching himself nodding anyway. Even focusing on the pain in his foot didn't work, and Kaede had wrapped it so well that he couldn't properly wriggle it to elicit a jolt to jerk him out of his stupor. Now he wished that he had taken her up on the offer. Talking to someone, at least, occupied his brain and kept him from focusing on his body's exhaustion.

Maybe the air outside is cooler, Hojo thought, and that will wake me up. Even if it wasn't, getting up and moving should help some.

So resolving, Hojo matched thought to deed and picked up his primitive crutch, grasping lightly at the walls of the hut to help him stand. There was one stomach-clenching moment in which he was sure he would fall and land on top of the injured limb, but eventually he managed to wobble himself to his single good foot without incident.

He tried to make his strange hopping gait as quiet as possible, in consideration to those sleeping nearby, so he moved remarkably slowly, even for someone on crutches. This wasn't helping him wake, Hojo saw very soon, as a gigantic yawn set him swaying and nearly toppling to the ground. He had to get far enough out of the village, or rather hospital, he supposed, (didn't his mind come up with the strangest things!) that no one would be disturbed by his brisk pace. Besides, he needed to get used to crutches again. He couldn't discard them nearly as soon as he had been able to before, not unless he wanted to be helpless in a wheelchair – an idea that just didn't appeal.

Maybe his brain had decided that the grassy plain was the hospital's lobby, and therefore the woods were the area just outside. That would theoretically be the best place to practice – the level surface of the sidewalk was best for his balance, at least starting out, and at this hour it should be fairly quiet. That decided, Hojo headed for the treeline.

It was, however, not as smooth going as he expected. Apparently this was an extremely vivid hallucination, because he was tripping over tree roots that he was sure that in reality _weren't there._ Hojo had due cause to curse his extremely vivid imagination and the blow to his head both, but he kept the language extremely mild instead of the ear-blistering swears he could have used. There weren't just good kids at their junior high, but Hojo preferred to stay firmly in their category any way he could all the same.

He had kept his balance for a while, but after tripping for the fourth or fifth time Hojo finally toppled, dropping his crutch and just barely catching himself with his hands while his ankle smashed into a tree root. Through the blinding haze of pain, he distantly heard the stick clank hollowly against the trunk of the root owner.

Hojo kept his breathing carefully controlled, and when he could see straight again he began an attempt to right himself. The pair of legs in front of him – one covered in the folds of a garment, one bare as far as he could see at this close range – didn't give him pause until he awkwardly maneuvered into a sitting position, left leg stretched out in front of him and right tucked underneath it.

Then he acknowledged the other person's presence by looking up and smiling widely. "Hello. Did I disturb you? If I did, I'm sorry."

The person – who, despite wearing an archaic yukata that was definitely meant for a female was definitely a man, Hojo saw as soon as he opened his mouth – raised an eyebrow at him and then spoke. "Well, aren't you a strange one? And polite, too. Is this your alternative to running and screaming from Jakotsu of the Shichinintai?"

Hojo kept his smile, though it shrank some, down to the proportions of an expression purely of politeness. A note of confusion entered his face. "I'm sorry, who? You see, I've hit my head, and beyond that I'm horribly tired because I'm not supposed to go to sleep."

Jakotsu – was that his name? Well, it would do for now, in his own head – smiled as well. In fact, he looked on the verge of genuine laughter at Hojo's plight. The schoolboy didn't begrudge him that, though, because the lines of his face beneath the thick makeup seemed unaccustomed to the expression, as if he wasn't truly happy enough of the time. "That does explain it," Jakotsu said, tilting his head to get a better look at the boy at his feet. "But you've seen me now, and you know who I am."

Hojo smiled still, though the confusion had made further inroads on his face. "I did. Would you like me to pass on a message?"

Jakotsu pouted. "Actually, that's exactly what I don't want. And you're cute enough, but it's no sport to kill a man while he's not himself." He sighed. "Besides, they'd know something was wrong as soon as they found the body. I tend to leave distinctive marks."

Hojo was no longer smiling. The thought had entered his head that this was no longer a pretty hallucination, and he had no idea why his brain would conjure up something like this, because there was no doubt that the man in front of him was absolutely serious. Come to that, he had no idea why his mother would allow his mental distress to continue – she always knew when he had had a nightmare, or similar. The thought began to enter his head that this wasn't a hallucination, instead something terribly real.

Jakotsu, meanwhile, seemed to have reached his own solutions to his problems. "I'll bring you back to Bankotsu no aniki, is what I'll do! You probably know something about Inuyasha and those people he travels with. Cute he is, but subtle he's not." Jakotsu sniffed. "And it wouldn't be any fun seeing him asleep, anyway. He's only that cute in action!" 

Hojo, if he had been paying attention, would probably have visualized a field of hearts or roses or something equally romantic appearing behind Jakotsu like those shojo animes the little girl he babysat liked to watch. Hojo was too wrapped up in other things, though, as connections started making themselves in his head. Abruptly overloaded with too much information in addition to pain, a concussion, and exhaustion, Hojo passed out.

Jakotsu pouted. "Don't tell me I have to carry him all the way back!"

* * *

The Higurashi family had just sat down to breakfast when the phone rang. Kagome looked questioningly at her mother, but Mama had already stood and started for the phone. "Higurashi residence," her warm voice answered, and then she smiled. "Oh, hello, Hojo-san! – No, we haven't seen him. Wait, Dad says he came by yesterday. – He is? – Of course I'll call. – Oh, it's no trouble, I'd want the same if it were Kagome or Souta. – You're welcome. I hope he turns up soon." She hung up the phone and looked solemnly at her family, gathered around the table. "Hojo-kun is missing."

* * *

**Notes**: Ack, I just realized there are a few plot holes timeline-wise in my story. For now, this is set in the limbo between episode 108 and 109. From what I've gathered, what actually happened in the show there was some traveling, but possibly after a battle like that where Kagome's convictions were shaken, she would simply want to go home for a warm bubble bath for a day or so. She and Inuyasha fought about it, and eventually he gave in with ill grace.

Also, I know the bit with Hojo figuring it out was crap. Deal. I might go back and fix it eventually, but I really had no idea how to make it happen, and realizing that Jakotsu was serious (because he always means it, you can tell) seemed like the best way. I just wrote it badly, I know. And it's not as long, but I have actual plot now, so things should go a little faster.


End file.
